


Ocean

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Multi, Self examination, Sound of the waves, Standing by the sea, innocent and tainted natures, what it means to be a Turk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, when it all gets too much, Tseng leaves Midgar, for a while. He always goes to the same place, and he always goes with the same people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean

Tseng would never get tired of the ocean. The sound of the surf on the shingle beach was possibly the single most soothing thing he had ever heard, and the fresh air was so different from the choking smog of Midgar. Every Turk deserved a break every now and again, and he would snatch any chance he could to get away from the city these days. It was becoming intolerable. Everywhere he turned, either Reno was being impossible and causing more problems which would land on HIS desk, or he was being thrown into yet another situation where close contact with chocoboes was essential. If he didn't know better he would be certain that Rufus was taking some sort of sadistic glee in his ability to put the Director in such infuriating situations.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment to push back the tide of stress in the face of the approaching sea. This was his refuge. There was no room for the stress of his everyday existence to get the better of him here. This was a retreat, a sanctuary, sprayed by the sea, deliciously cool and remote, at once both so similar and so different to his own nature in a dichotomy of oxymoronic perfection.

He felt firm hands gently rest on his shoulders, beginning to soothe away the tension in his muscles. Tseng's dark eyes closed once more and he relaxed a little into the contact, that reluctant lapse in his iron self-control a demonstration of the depth of trust he had for the man who now offered simple comfort. He could smell the freshness of the other Director's suit, even beneath that wonderfully salty tang of the sea air, and his lips curved into the first genuine smile for weeks.

Reeve smiled as he felt his lover relax beneath his tender ministrations. He leant his head against the surprisingly soft fabric of the Turk's suit. For all that the uniform was utilitarian in nature, it did not mean that the cloth was coarse. Far too many Turks lived in their uniform for that to be the case, and Tseng at least could afford better.

The dark Turk turned away from the rolling grey expanse of water which represented the tranquility he would never achieve, resting his forehead gently against Reeve's in a moment's tender affection, arms moving up and around the brunette's neck, even as Reeve's still rested on his shoulders. They both felt at peace here, and Tseng could sense his lover's soul, already calmed by just a few hours away from that poisonous metropolis. Tseng knew Reeve better than he knew himself, knew the other's gentle nature, his supreme intelligence, that innocence which sometimes verged on naivete... he also recognised the other's inner strength, though that in no way reduced his need to keep his lover safe. He needed something to cling to, someone to protect, to keep safe from everything. He had an insatiable desire to keep something pure in this world. Wading through the filth of day-to-day existence, where the stench of corruption rose to the very top, Reeve's happy nature was refreshing and Tseng wanted to preserve it as long as possible.

Self-examination was dangerous for a Turk, it had the potential to tip one over the edge, after all, they were ShinRa's cleanup crew, doing the dirty jobs that noone else would touch. Instead, Tseng had dedicated his time to learning Reeve instead, mapping the contours of the other's body with his hands, commiting every imperfection to memory with his fingertips, treasuring it and tracing it with tender kisses. To begin with, he had looked upon the study of his lover as a substitute for the tendency for self-study which was such an intrinsic part of his nature, however, he had come to realise that, rather than a distraction, his study of his lover had only increased his understanding of himself. Reeve was like a perfect reflection of every part of him, and by basking in the light of Reeve's soul, Tseng could forget the darkness of his own for a few moments.

Eventually, Reeve spoke, his voice low, tone soft, a pleasant counterpoint to the constant rhythm of the surf.

"We should go back..."

Tseng did not reply, but turned a wistful glance back to the horizon. Reeve squeezed his hand gently, and brushed the merest ghost of a kiss over the marble surface of the other's cheek.

"Vincent's waiting..."

Tseng heaved a sigh and nodded, tearing himself away from his solitude. The beauty of the sea was that it was always there, waiting, unquestioning. It may have been ever-changing, but it was always reliable.


End file.
